


Fall In

by Try2CatchMe



Series: Sanctuary 'verse [7]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Gen, M/M, Pre-Slash
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-12-02
Updated: 2012-12-02
Packaged: 2017-11-20 01:11:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,369
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/579659
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Try2CatchMe/pseuds/Try2CatchMe
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Blinking through tears up at the ceiling, Adam allowed himself a brief moment to wonder just who the hell he'd pissed off so badly after being back alive for less than two days and spending most of that time alone with a naive angel and his pissy vessel."</p>
            </blockquote>





	Fall In

**Author's Note:**

> Back again! Geez, has it been a week already? Time flies when school and work are killing you.

"I don't believe sustenance should be able to move under its own power." Samandriel said curiously, peering into the refrigerator.

"Yeah, it shouldn't." Adam confirmed from safely in the hallway, well away from the fridge. "Just stab it a couple times and toss it into the bag with everything else."

The general trauma of re-entering his childhood home had been quickly offset by the fact that it _stank_. Apparently, keeping an eye on the house hadn't extended to cleaning the perishables out of the fridge, who knew? It didn't help that most everything _liquefied_ if left alone long enough.

Six years was plenty long.

Fortunately, Samandriel was either immune to the stomach-churning stench or had the same reaction dogs did confronted with a rank shoe, which was to stick his nose in it. So he was regulated to clearing out the fridge while Adam ran around opening all the windows. Alfie, apparently, was doing whatever the equivalent of locking himself in his room to escape the crazy people was for a vessel.

Adam, meanwhile, was dusting everything. He'd never been one for much cleaning, but there was a thick layer of dust on everything... which really made no sense. He remembered hearing once that the dust that accumulated on furniture was dead skin cells, so how could it pile up when no one was living in the house?

These were the questions that haunted him at two AM when he'd been awake for thirty-two hours. He was kind of terrified of sleeping to be perfectly honest, but he planned to avoid mentioning that for as long as possible, so there was that.

"What do I do when the bag is full?" Samandriel's voice drifted from the kitchen.

"Tie it closed, toss it in the dumpster in the alley, and pray that the garbage truck comes first thing in the morning." Adam answered, tossing another cloth saturated with dust into the grocery sack dangling from his wrist. It was times like this he was glad he didn't have to worry about allergies.

The back door rattled in its frame when it closed and he took a minute to just look around. All the furniture would have to be washed, everything would have to be cleaned if he want to make his house livable again. And just because no humans had gotten in didn't mean no wildlife had. And even once he was done, what would he do with it?

It was hauntingly silent with Samandriel outside, too easy to get lost in thought. So much so that Adam jumped about a foot in the air when someone started pounding on his door.

Answering the door was stupid. Like, really, really, really stupid. In his defense, he was so sleep deprived he was pretty sure he was legally intoxicated and at the time it seemed like perfectly irrefutable logic that if it was a monster at the door, they wouldn't bother knocking.

His luck held just enough that no, it wasn't a monster.

It did not hold enough that he didn't get punched in the face by a very, very angry and slightly familiar man about his age.

There was the crunch of cartilage giving way that was hauntingly familiar and probably would have thrown him straight into a flashback if it weren't for the fact that his nose had just been _broken_ and the pain kept him very firmly rooted in reality.

"You asshole!"

Blinking through tears up at the ceiling, Adam allowed himself a brief moment to wonder just who the hell he'd pissed off so badly after being back alive for less than two days and spending most of that time alone with a naive angel and his pissy vessel.

Then he gagged on the blood that was starting to go down his throat and rolled onto his side to instead let the it drip from his nose onto the hardwood.

"We thought you were _dead_!"

Adam looked up, holding a hand to his nose like he could somehow make the break less horrible by catching the blood. Standing over him was a guy that he didn't really recognize. He was about 6'2" with sandy brown hair, green eyes, and a face that was blotchy red with rage. He was about Adam's age and... slightly familiar.

Standing behind him, having not said anything yet, was a girl about seventeen, long blonde hair pulled back into twin loose braids, her grey eyes alight with unshed tears, but face otherwise impassive. She was _much_ more familiar. Because, young as she was, she looked exactly like his mother.

He could hardly believe it, but this more than anything else showed him how much time had passed. "Elise?" he asked, just to be sure. At the slight twitch of recognition, he turned his gaze to his attacker who must be- "Griffin?"

For a moment, he thought he was going to get punched again. Then the back door rattled a second time.

"Adam, what shoul-" Samandriel came in from the kitchen, took one look in the living room, and instantly the soft expression that seemed default on his face vanished like it had never been.

Immediately, he was between Adam's crouched form and Griffin, whose eyes widened at the apparent teleportation. From his place he couldn't see the angel's expression, but Adam _could_ see the flash of lightning that painted shadows of tattered wings across the ceiling, floor, and walls. Thunder cracked loud enough to shake his bones, but all he could think was Samandriel wasn't nearly as healed as he claimed.

The angel took a step forward and Adam lunged, catching at his hand, "Wait, don't!"

Almost tangibly, the tension increased when Samandriel turned to look at him and saw the blood caking the lower half of his face, "But they hurt you."

"They're my cousins. Family fights all the time, it doesn't mean they should be smote."

Samandriel looked skeptically back at the newcomers before kneeling in front of Adam. The tight atmosphere didn't so much dissipate as it did vanish nearly in the span of an eye-blink.

It was something of a wake-up call to realize that Samandriel was just as much a soldier as any other angel and that he could rain down vengeance whenever he wanted to.

A wake-up call that immediately fled Adam's mind when the angel's hands came up to cup his face.

"You shouldn't let anyone hurt you," Samandriel said in annoyance, as close to a grumble as Adam suspected he would ever get. A tingling warmth pulsed from his hands, there was a second crack, and Adam could breathe again as his nose realigned and the cartilage fused back together.

"I'll get right on that." Adam reached up to his nose and found even the blood was gone. "Thanks."

"What the hell is going on?!?" Griffin shouted. Some distant part of Adam's mind told him the neighbors were probably going to complain sooner or later. He kicked it. "What _is_ he??"

"Adam," Elise finally spoke, eyes wide, "You haven't aged a day." Good old Elise, quiet and observant and noticing things that an entire station full of cops and people Adam had known since he could toddle had missed.

She hadn't changed at all since he last saw her when she was eleven.

"Yeah..." Adam said, letting Samandriel help him to his feet and watching Griffin's face pale, "It's a long story."

"We drove here as soon as we heard you were back to _get_ that story," Elise said, steel in her tone, and she reminded him so much of his mother for a second, when she was dealing with a troublesome patient or when he was being a pain, that it _hurt_. Why did his mom have to have a twin, really? Elise was practically a clone of his aunt, "You're not putting it off a second longer than you must."

Adam scratched at the back of his neck, noting that Samandriel hadn't moved an inch from his side and probably wouldn't for at least three hours, and sighed, gesturing to the couch, "You might wanna sit down."

They'd already met an angel tonight, why not tell them about the apocalypse they missed?


End file.
